Total pages in book: 63
Estimated words: 61542 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 308(@200wpm)___ 246(@250wpm)___ 205(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 61542 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 308(@200wpm)___ 246(@250wpm)___ 205(@300wpm)
He’s just so adorable with his little hands clenching and relaxing. I wonder what he’s dreaming of.
Turning my attention back to the dog, I realize I have to get out of the car and physically move that dog away. This is a quiet residential street, but he still shouldn’t be sleeping there, especially if he’s got low awareness of his surroundings.
I take another glance at William. He’s safe there, right? I keep second-guessing myself because I keep making silly mistakes around William. Maybe I shouldn’t have suggested this car ride in the first place.
But William’s strapped in—Katie even did that herself, so I’m sure it was done right.
He’ll be fine. This is going to take me one minute.
I step out of the car and approach the furry canine sleeping soundly, right in front of my car. He’s breathing, which means he’s alive. Good.
“Hey, buddy.” I crouch down and touch the dog on the head.
He turns to look at me with sage, unhurried eyes.
“You can’t sleep here, man. Someone’s going to hit you, sooner or later. Where’s your home?”
I know the dog can’t understand me, much less answer me, but I don’t know what else to do. He’s a big dog and he’s not budging. I could try to prod and push, but he could turn aggressive.
Seriously, who lets their old dog roam outside on its own?
“Adam!” I hear Sawyer’s familiar voice. “Your car!”
I turn toward the source of the voice and find Sawyer on the sidewalk, rushing in my direction in his running gear.
“Hey, Sawyer!” I wave at him.
“Your car!” he points behind me, his face frantic.
I finally look behind me, and . . .
What the fuck?
My car’s already about five yards away and only sliding further away. And William’s still inside.
Shit.
I race toward the car. As the wind blows in my hair, I notice the street does have a slight slope. Why didn’t I see it before? Fuck!
If I don’t stop it in time, the car will hit that green SUV. It’s parked in front of a house on a street that runs perpendicular to this one.
Luckily, my car’s not rolling backward too quickly. I grab the door handle and pull. But with the car sliding back and me sprinting to match its speed, it’s not an easy task.
Wham!
My car finally stops.
And I haven’t even gotten inside yet.
Fuck.
I hope William’s okay.
I yank on the door handle and it finally swings open.
Immediately, I hear William crying in the backseat. Shit, I’m so sorry, little guy.
I jump into the driver’s seat. Yep. It was in Neutral instead of Park like I thought. I’m such a genius.
I quickly fix the problem, although obviously it’s too late now. There’s a car behind us that practically serves as the brake.
“William, you’re okay now. It’s okay. Everything’s okay.” I twist in my seat and reach back to rub his knees.
We’re still stopped in the middle of the street, although there are only parked cars around us. I should get my car parked too so I can comfort him and calm him down. I’d hate for Katie to see William in this state.
William must be scared shitless. Come to think of it, I wouldn’t be surprised if he literally shit his pants (or diaper).
But, at least he’s okay, even if my car’s going to have to spend a few nights (or weeks) at some garage.
I heave a sigh of relief and then another. I need at least a hundred more deep breaths.
But with Sawyer approaching my car, there’s no time for that.
“What the fuck, man?” Sawyer asks. “William was in there the whole time?”
“Yeah,” I admit.
“What were you thinking?” he asks as he pulls the back door open and climbs into the car. He rubs William’s head and shoulders. “Don’t cry, William.”
William looks up at Sawyer, but tears continue to roll down his soft, baby cheeks as he sobs.
“That was fun, right?” Sawyer asks. “Like a roller coaster ride. You don’t know what that is now, but you’re going to love it in the future.”
With Sawyer in the car to tend to William, I step outside.
A woman has emerged from the house in front of which the green SUV was parked. Her mouth is open in surprise as she rushes out to check the damage.
She was probably just planning to have a quiet day at home, judging from the bright-pink rollers in her hair.
I give her my business card and insurance details as she snaps some pictures with her phone.
“Do you mind if we leave the police out of it?” I ask. “My baby’s crying in the car and he needs to get home.”
She appraises me suspiciously, but her demeanour changes when William lets out a particularly loud scream.
“I promise you, I’m going to sort this out and cover all the costs of fixing your car. I just need to take my son home.”